FFX
by ukie1
Summary: You know this is bound to happen...
1. Prologue: Evidence Tape 1

"I must say, my young friend, this is one of the most brilliant ideas I've heard in ages."

"Really, sempai, I just figured that if the rest of the team could make those Dead or Alive girls do it..."

"Still, still. I'm sure when this project is finished, an... advancement is most assuredly guaranteed."

"If you say so, sempai... I barely got hired half a year ago. I'm sure there's other seniors who -"

"Trust me. The director won't have a choice if we pull this through. I'm dead positive."

"But -"

"No buts. Not when the site is this perfect. You can't find a more fittingly haunted house than this. Instead of having to subtitle this as _'Based on stories that are based on true stories'_, this will **be** a true story in itself."

"Well, that, I can vouch for with no hesitations. Beginner's luck, I suppose."

"Whatever it is, it works. A vacation house originally owned by the Belli family on the edge of Silent Hill? I mean, come on."

"Well, it was pure chance that it got abandoned recently; there was no way to even get near this place a few months ago -"

"Because that Umbrella Corporation that bought the house last year just decided to vacate it almost overnight, right?"

"Exactly, sempai. When I saw the pictures of the house and the area, the opportunities simply presented themselves..."

"And you did commendably for one so young. Now, how far along are the constructions?"

"Oh, those American contractors don't work nearly as hard. It took a fair bit of nagging, but most of the additions are in place."

"The major ones?"

"The Pool of Maidens' Blood's just lacking a diving board. Beach to the Shore Beyond needs to have the volleyball netting decorated with talismans and cursed paper dolls. Oh, and more seats for the Rope Shrine."

"Seats? What for?"

"The rope maiden called her Union on us when she felt her position got taken over by the Kuze family head, so I cut her a deal and converted the shrine into a boxing ring and added seats to accommodate a large audience so she can win some attention back."

"I... see. What about the sleeping quarters?"

"All done, even the extra air conditioning vents I told them to put in under the beds. The spirit stone radios by the nightstands are already programmed to randomly play one of the handmaidens' songs for wake-up calls."

"That's a nice touch. What else?"

"Other than the fact that we have to put a 50" plasma TV in the Twin's Room, everything should be ready."

"Hold on, don't Azami and Akane have one already? Those things are expensive, you know."

"Yes, but they insisted on having two because they have two of everything else. They wouldn't budge on the issue."

"You've got to be kidding me. They even watch the same damned channels!"

"Hey, sempai, if you want to go talk to them about it, feel free."

"...those greedy little whores. Fine, they win. Any other issues?"

"I don't believe so at this time. Actually, would you like a walkthrough now?"

"It's really ready? Well, of course! This is going to be great; I haven't been in a haunted house since I was a kid at Disney."

"Right this way then, sempai. Please, after you."

"Very well. By the way, what have we decided on the actual name of this project?"

"On that... if I may be so bold, why don't we just call it for exactly what it is?"

"You mean, spare the fancy words and just go with -"

"Yes. _Fatal Frame Extreme_."


	2. Prologue: Evidence Tape 2

"-Yes, please, my dear, another glass of sake would be just fine. I must say, you look ravishingly horrific today. Did you fix that bandage on purpose, or did it just slip off by itself? I can see your left eye socket from here."

"No, no, it's all right, leave it like that. It looks better this way, in fact. Gives you a… how should I put it? Ah, yes. An Ayanami cosplay impression. My friend, you've just outdone yourself. Never in my life would I expect to be sitting at the Grand Hall, sipping sake served by gorgeous blind female ghosts!"

"Oh, it's nothing special, sempai. Wait till you see them in their unlockable bunny suits."

"Marvelous! I can't wait. Now, regarding unlockables… how are the handmaidens taking it?"

"They're not thrilled with the junior high one-piece swimsuits, actually, but they'll live. Er, haunt, or whatever it is in their case. But they love flying over water and don't mind pulling the water ski-"

"Wait, did you just hear something?"

"Um, no, I don't think so, sempai."

"Must be my imagination then. I swear, first thing to go when you get old is usually the hearing. In any event, I trust the crew is… complacent?"

"Besides the usual moaning and wailing-"

"There it is! What is that infernal noise? It sounds like a large group of people getting beat up or something."

"Oh, that, that's coming down the hall from the Thousand Dolls' Room."

"What on earth are they doing in there?"

"Playing, sempai."

"You mean torturing people? I thought this place's not leaked to the public yet. The local disappearances aren't supposed to start till weekend, no?"

"It's nothing like that, really. You were just hearing a thousand copies of Smash Bros. DS version in a free-for-all brawl over Wi-Fi."

"They were playing Nintendo DS? All of them?"

"Well, they're dolls, but they **are** kids too. And you can't exactly have them running around everywhere and dirty their handmade doll kimonos, or the overtime pay the costume designers clock in to fix all their dresses alone would be enough to kill our budget."

"I… guess. Anyway, how are the bosses doing? I know Kirie's not due back till tonight from her honeymoon with Mafuyu, but what about the others?"

"There's… some slight complications. We ran out of anticonvulsants for Sae and she's kinda seizing up from all that laughing she does all day long, so we're tying her up to a bed right now to keep it from getting worse."

"…and Reika?"

"At the laser clinic trying to remove the latest addition of tattoos she placed on herself."

"You mean there are actually places left on her skin to add new ink?"

"No, there aren't. But she's not a tattoo master for nothing. It's actually pretty clever; she must've sneaked out to that Tattoo Express at the airport while we were overlaid in Hawaii and modified it, but that giant snake on her looks more like a bent palm tree when I checked it yesterday, and where the snake eyes were… well, they got redrawn into coconuts now."

"…"

"Unfortunately, Reika was saying now that she doesn't actually need to bear the holly anymore, she wanted something less… heavy."

"It's heavy all right; it's a heavy disaster! How's she gonna scare anybody with a tattoo of palm trees and coconuts on her skin?"

"That's why we invoked a couple clauses in the contract and sent her to the clinic. They should have everything repaired by this afternoon."

"Good grief. I can see our promotions vanish faster than a ghost in festival mode on FF3, and you call these slight complications?"

"Well, yes. Comparatively speaking, of course."

"_Comparatively speaking? _As in, there's more bad news? What could possibly-"

"Our heroines can't make it here."


	3. Prologue: Evidence Tape 3

"…_excuse me_?"

"I said, sempai-"

"I heard what you said. Why are they not here?"

"Rei got caught driving while her license was still revoked last week, so now she can't go anywhere until she finishes a defensive driving course unless she wants to see jail time…"

"Mio? Mayu?"

"They're living it up like the new Olsen's twins right now and about to release their first CD single. Most of that extra money they got was from a settlement we made with them last time 'cause they sued us for child exploitation and sexual harassment to minors, remember?"

"That's total bullshit and you know it."

"Don't take it out on me, sempai. The jurors were already leaning their way due to all the yuri child porn crap floating on the internet after _Crimson Butterflies_ came out. Besides, Mayu really knew how to work that disability angle to get people to her side."

"Oh, for chrissakes. How about Miku? She's a working college girl, she must be desperate for money. There's no reason for her not to come."

"She, uh… according to her manager, she started seeing things again."

"Lord, LSDs _again_?"

"Something like that. Rumor has it some of her college friends got her to try Canadian 'shrooms and she's having trouble quitting."

"Like always. As if it weren't enough the first time around; even back then she spent more days in rehab than doing the shoot at the Himuro Mansion."

"I wasn't aware of that. Poor girl."

"Poor _us_. You weren't there and didn't have to put up with her constantly tuning everyone out. So, what are we going to do now, genius? F.F.X. is gonna go down the drain at this point. Can't we use Kei at all?"

"I'm afraid not, sempai. Nobody buys an _Extreme_ game to see a male lead. Just look at what happened with Zack in the first DoAX."

"Isn't there anybody around we can use? Anybody at all?"

"Actually, I just caught a couple girls loitering around the area around fifteen minutes ago. While they look beautiful in their own right, sempai, I don't think it's a good idea to-"

"Show me the security tapes."

"…okay. But I must ask you to reconsider this, they're…"

"Just show me the damned feeds already and shut the hell up. Let's see… yes, they'll do in a pinch. Sure, none of those girls look _remotely_ Japanese, what with two of them blond as wheat fields and the one brunette looking like she works the street corners with that blue tube-top and mini skirt of hers, but until we can get the leads from the old series here, they'll have to do."

"But, but… what about copyright infringement?"

"Screw copyright. We'll think of something. Just _get them_."


	4. Chapter 1: Cheryl

Disclaimer: same old, same old. I don't own any of this. _Silent Hill_ is made by Konami, _Haunting Ground_ and _Resident Evil_ are from Capcom, and _Fatal Frame_ is by Tecmo.

Author's Notes: This just came to me as a spur-of-the-moment thing, and seeing how my personal computer is fried and I'm typing this up at the computer lab at my military unit, I can't promise any regular updates. Personal priority is to get back into some semblance of a writing shape and wrap up _Timed Vacation_ first, seeing how I've kept many readers waiting for years on it. Don't let this stop you from enjoying or hating the idea or the story though. It's all meant to be in good fun.

And, oh, the chapters will be reorganized better if this story actually takes off, and comments/criticisms always help and are appreciated. As it is, I'm literally uploading whatever comes to mind, given the amount of limited time I have to access the lab for personal usage.

-ukie

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- 1 -

"Please, call me Cheryl." _Remember to smile, girl,_ she reminded herself; _you're at an interview now_. _Smiling is required. Smiling would get you through any door… at least that's what Dad used to say, and Dad's always right._ The freckles on her face displaced under a sunny smile and her green eyes nearly twinkled. _There._

Across from a suitably cluttered office desk, the store manager briefly glanced up from the resume resting in his short, meaty fingers to inspect the short blond girl in an orange, sleeveless turtleneck and decided right there and then that either that forced smile had to go, or she was just trying to hide the fact that she had to pee really bad. He looked down at the resume again, and frowned. "It says on the copy of your driver's license here that your name is Heather, Ms. Mason."

"Oh, but I prefer Cheryl. Think of it as a pet name, if you will." _Smile smile smile smile smile._

The glasses on the man's pudgy face slipped a tad; he moved to readjust it. "Really, Ms. Mason," he said at last, "This isn't a pet store. We don't use pet names here. If you wish to work here with us, the first thing you'll have to learn is that we do everything – and I mean **everything**, by the book."

The freckles settled back into their original respective positions. "Sure thing, Mr. Seawell." _Oh, my, god. You stupid four-eyed twit, how long are we gonna be at this? You're gonna make me miss American Idol._ "Call me whatever you wish then."

"Very well, Ms. Mason. I'll be frank here." Mr. Seawell declared, pausing for effect. "While I understand you are very young, and don't get me wrong – we love to have young, energetic workers to join the team at this establishment –" Again, another pause. " – I just don't think you're experienced enough at this time to allow us to create a mutually beneficial relationship –"

"Woah, backtrack. You lost me there." A hint of steely grey crept into those green eyes as Cheryl cut the manager off, not realizing or caring what interview etiquette taboo she might've just broken. "This is _Happy Burger_, right?" Not waiting for the nod from the other end of the desk, she went on, "What kind of experience should I have exactly before applying here? I mean, what's your SAT score cutoff? How 'bout GPA? And my 1000-word essay on the importance and relevance of our president's latest State of the Union address? Do you need those too?"

"Now, Ms. Mason, there's no need to be sarcastic. I was merely pointing out your deficiency on the interpersonal communications front, which, as you must be aware, is critical to customer relations, which has a direct impact on the level of our business –"

"Deficiency? _Deficiency_?" How _dare_ he? She didn't come here to get lectured on her deficiencies today; she's just looking for a job while she put a semester of college on hold, for god's sake. "Well," she replied in a tight voice, "In case you mean I can't communicate well enough to you… let me give you a visual aid: Deficiency _This_."

And she promptly gave him the finger.

x x x

That, Cheryl thought as she slumped bonelessly into the cheap metal chair outside the Starbucks at the other end of the mall, could've gone _way_ better. She ran a hand through the layers of her short, dyed blond hair in irritation. For one thing, she almost forgot to grab her old white hooded vest when she was busy storming out of the manager's office.

_Well, Dad, I guess you're wrong about some things after all, but I love you anyways._

Taking a minute to smooth out her faded blue denim miniskirt, she allowed herself a breather to ponder her next move. _Guess I can always call up Eat At Joe's_… _nah_.

Fingers absently playing with the buttons on the numerous pockets in front of her vest, her thoughts wandered along the path of possibilities. _I wonder if it'll help me get hired if I just put down my other talents on the resume. Just think, Cheryl Mason: 17 yr. old bona fide monster killer. Vengeful God-slayer of Silent Hill. Specializes in trouncing flesh bags, demonic nurses from hell, and toppling evil Satanic cults that liked to set shit on fire for kicks. Hey, maybe I should move to, say, California or something. Move over, Buffy, Cheryl Mason's in town. _

Slightly amused by her own mental rambling, she pulled out a neatly folded piece of newspaper from one of the pockets she'd just been harassing. Unfolding the sheet, and taking out a red marker from her purse, she scanned the page of classifieds yet again, and let out a small sigh as she drew another 'X' mark over where a block of advertisement used to be circled.

Naturally, she eyed the only circled ad on the page that hadn't been similarly crossed out. She reread the descriptions again for the hundredth time, as if trying to discover new reasons in those lines to convince herself not to go besides the only one she harbored deep within her. Equally frustrated and relieved at finding none such faults, Cheryl closed her eyes for a brief second and muttered to herself, "All right, girl. You can do this." After all, Claudia's dead, Vincent's dead, and that God-fetus thing was definitely dead and gone judging from the bits and pieces of it she scraped off her boots that night. Nobody's out to get her anymore, even in Silent Hill. Besides, the address meant the location on the ad was close – but not quite inside – the damned town, so really. _It's time to stop being a pussy._

Her mind made up, she afforded one last glance at the descriptions, though at this point she knew them by heart already:

_Housekeepers Wanted!_

_Gorgeous 4-story corporate-  
owned mansion located on  
the outskirts of a quiet little  
lakeside resort town seeking  
fulltime live in housekeepers. _

_GREAT PAY Full 401(k),  
Excellent medical benefits. _

_Hardworking singles preferred.  
Must be good with dogs and  
other animals. References not  
needed. Call Al.xxx-xxxx or  
email awesker(a)umbrella.xxx_

_Quiet little lakeside resort town my ass,_ Cheryl snorted, and punched in the numbers on her cell. _This had so better be worth it._

- 2 -

"Holy shit."

The gears in her head ground to an abrupt halt in an attempt to make sense of what she was seeing. Pulling out the printout she got from mapquest, Cheryl double-checked the address and directions listed, then looked up again at the huge, ancient-looking wooden double doors easily twice her height and wide enough let through a pickup truck. _This can't be the right place._

Frantically, Cheryl's mind went into overdrive. It was about three weeks ago that she made the call for an interview appointment with this Wesker guy. Apparently, Mr. Wesker was quite a busy man, hence the late appointment. The descriptions she received from the man prepared her for a small hike through some woods from the nearest public transportation, a fact that she didn't particularly care for, but didn't terribly mind either considering how short on money she was. After all, it made sense; the location was somewhat remote, therefore the 'live in' bit in the classifieds. It wasn't as if she felt any special attachment to her own apartment after her father died, and besides, she had a whole semester off. She was fully prepared to see a grand, four-storied mansion, maybe even a vintage Victorian one… but not _this_. "What. The. Fuck." She mouthed, punctuating each word clearly though not actually giving voice. To her dismay, the curse did nothing to dispel what obviously could only be an illusion staring right back at her.

Tearing her eyes away from the ridiculously oversized front doors, she let the rest of the image in front of her register in her brain. _Oh, my, god. Wooden… no, scratch that. Roofs made of straight rows of logs?_ _Plural fucking roofs that could be seen beyond the front walls?_ _Huge support wooden beams that could be seen over the walls supporting said roofs at this distance? _This, she concluded, was definitely no mansion. It's more like someone hauled a genuine Japanese castle right out of the ground dumped it right outside of Silent Hill, U.S.A.

_Hmm. Hold on._ Her brain hiccupped. _Silent Hill, U.S.A._

Strangely, though, the fact that this… thing was sitting so close near the hellish town made its presence much more logically palatable. _Of course. If it's weird, it's gotta be near Silent Hill. By corollary, if something's near Silent Hill, it's gotta be weird. _

"Well, at least if I can't work here as a housekeeper, I can always come back and work as an exterminator. I can just see the termite problems they're gonna have in a few years now." She laughed at her own little joke, then took to the front steps determinedly.

"Here goes nothing." Setting herself firmly and pressing against the heavy-looking double doors, Cheryl shoved her body forward. The smooth wooden doors slowly creaked open, and despite it being only afternoon, she could see that the interior was much darker than even the dim filtered light through the forested path that led up to the mansion.

A momentary pause, but she did not look back. Then, one foot over the threshold followed by the other, Cheryl Mason ventured on into the familiar unknown.


End file.
